Chapter 117

Chapter One Hundred Seventeen

Rocks tumbled from the top of the collapse to crash against the walls of the broad avenue. Connor held his ground until a particularly large chunk of debris slalomed between thick slabs with a series of cracks and headed toward him.

Elise tugged on his armored chest plate. “It’s unstable. You can’t go up there.”

He coughed on the clinging dust—dry and stale. “They might need me.”

“And we’ll find them. But coming from this side is out of the question.”

She was right, of course. Twice, he’d put his foot on the pile of rock and composite chunks, and both times it had shifted and skittered beneath the weight, as if the stone were a carapace covering anxious bugs.

The avenue was broad. There should have been plenty of space for the collapse to fill, spilling low and wide instead of climbing to the ceiling. Instead, the collapse had taken place several meters after the fork, in a narrower space.

Now Connor couldn’t stop thinking of the millions of tons of rock above him, ready at any moment to fall down and crush him.

“I saw their lights flicker.” He coughed until thick phlegm filled his mouth, then spat that out. It took some of the fine, powdery dust with it.

“I wasn’t paying attention to them.” Elise looked back the way they’d come.

“The symbols. You were caught up in the discovery.”

“I’m sorry. But I felt the tremor.”

“Was it a tremor? I felt…something. It could have been an explosion.”

“That’s possible, I suppose. To me, it felt like a tremor.”

He kicked a small rock away. “A tremor that just so happened to collapse the roof of the path our team was taking, at the exact moment where we were separated.”

“It sounds unlikely. I understand that. Does it sound any better to assume it was an explosion? Who would have set it? When?”

Once again, she was right. He was being emotional.

Connor backed up to the intersection. “You have an idea where to go?”

“Well, it’s not particularly scientific, but Mosiah was looking down this part of the intersection.”

“He was confused.”

“Or maybe he just remembered going to the right. Right turn, right fork—it’s not uncommon to have an idea right without the exact details. We’re more than a kilometer underground, moving through the dark.”

Among alien structures, Connor thought.

He waved for her to follow, then turned left, following the avenue the old man had started down.

Behind him, Elise cooed and cawed—like a mother connecting to her baby. At any other time, it would have been insane, but with all that he’d experienced in the last week, the reaction seemed almost banal.

She let out a belly laugh. “You must think my mind has gone off the rails.”

“It occurred to me.” He smiled over his shoulder at her.

“This is simply the most amazing find—more than I dreamed of coming here.”

“A lot of good people died just doing their jobs here.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

They headed down the avenue that Mosiah had somehow not remembered, the whisper of their steps climbing to the towering ceiling. Connor played his flashlight beam over the walls and floor, ready for the freakish hooting shriek of the octopus things.

Elise’s gasp spun Connor around, Asp raised.

But she was running toward a section of wall on the right side of the path. It took him a second to realize that her light didn’t penetrate the darkness fully.

A chamber!

He darted after her. “Don’t go in—”

The archaeologist didn’t pay him any heed, ducking beneath a hanging slab of the white, stone-like composite and hurrying into the black space.

When he squatted to fit under the slab, he expected to see her wrapped in the black tentacle-wings of one of the octopus things.

Instead, she stood at the far wall of a large chamber, which was covered in…machinery.

At least it looked like machinery in the beam of her flashlight.

Connor squeezed into the chamber. “Don’t do that again.”

“What?” Her voice was soft, distant in the dusty, stale air.

She’s off in her archaeologist world, he realized.

Had she expected nothing but walls and streets? All along, she’d said this was an ancient work created by advanced people. The machinery—with its dusty glass slates and square, button-covered panels—seemed to support her theory.

Still, she let out soft gasps of wonder.

“Look!” Her light danced up and down a column that split the wall, stopping when she found another cluster of the alien symbols.

Then it was Connor’s turn to gasp. “Is that—?”

Elise had spotted it: a set of gems of various colors resting on a circular tray built into the divider.

She blew a fine layer of dust off the stones, and they sparkled in her light.

“Sapphire. Emerald. Ruby. Amethyst.” She leaned in closer. “I think this is a blue diamond.”

“You could finance this entire expedition with those.”

“And have plenty left over to pay for…” Her voice drifted off.

Did a scientist dream of life without their work? Ever since Wentz’s rebellion had failed, Connor’s motivation had shifted: Care for the team; Save for the time where he could finally buy a place far away from the threat of the corrupt Talon Sector powers.

Her fingers dangled over the giant ruby, then she lifted it from the tray.

A soft hum filled the chamber, then a soft green glow lit it.

Connor edged closer to her. “You sure about that?”

Elise gently pushed the gem that filled her palm with a finger. “It…seemed right.”

Symbols running the length of the divider grew red and bright.

Then a form—humanoid, with a large, bald head and big, reflective eyes appeared, a holographic construct of the same green emanation lighting the room.

She leaned low to examine the image. “This must be the builders.”

Connor’s mouth felt dry, and an unease settled in his gut. Had Selen been right in her warning not to trust the archaeologist?

The form’s mouth—a lipless slit—opened, and a deep, croaking sound escaped.

Elise’s eyes flew wide. “It’s talking to us! Connor! They left a message behind!”

“I got that.”

The thing spoke again, and Connor felt the urge to run, to flee the chamber and retreat back to the ramp, then sprint back up to the winch and the people waiting above.